


It Was Always You

by nicolespork



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Object Sexuality, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 18:58:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicolespork/pseuds/nicolespork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BroCal is one of my favorite ships, and I've read a lot of fics of it, but nothing through Lil Cal's point of view. So I decided to write it. And kind of remind myself I ship things other than brojohn. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Always You

You sit on top of the kitchen counter, watching. You’re always watching. He never makes you participate, you’re too good for that, but he loves it when you watch. You love watching too, but you never watch the others. Only him. He doesn’t show emotion very much, but when he does it’s for you and you can’t get enough of it. You watch as he furrows his brow in concentration, tiny beads of sweat at his temples. His hat is discarded next to you and his hair is a wild mess of a man that is working hard. You love when he’s like this.

He looks up from his work and makes eye contact with you. You’re past the point of being embarrassed when he catches you checking him out. He grins, blowing you a kiss before returning to his work. Your mouth falls open slightly and you know he knows you returned the favor. He always knows. It’s one of the reasons you love him so much.

You watch as one of your fellow puppets gets set on fire. You don’t feel that bad about it either. It’s not like you asked to be the favorite. Even though he hand makes the other, he holds you to a different standard. The others are disposable. The affection he feels for you would be reciprocated if you had feelings but you don’t worry about it because he knows. He knows there’s more going on behind your dead eyes and he knows how you respond and he knows you love the same way a little boy knows these things about his favorite teddy bear. You’re more alive than the bear though. You’re more alive than a lot of inanimate objects.

When he’s done playing ringleader to his smuppet circus, he scoops you up. He leaves his hat off because he knows how much better you think he looks without it, he also leaves the mess for Dave to find in the morning, which will fill the both of you with hours of entertainment. But for now, it’s just you and Bro. Your bro. He collapses onto the futon and presses against you. His head is in your chest and he just breathes you in. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and you can feel the little hairs on his nape. He lifts his head and rises a little and your arms slide to his shoulders. You love looking up at him like this, hell you just love looking at him at all. He removes his pointy shades and you can finally see his eyes. His beautiful eyes that drew you in the second you first saw them. You love when he takes his shades off because even though you can tell the kind of look he gives you, you love seeing it more than anything. He always looks at you as if you’re the most important thing in his world. And you suppose that’s true. Well, you and Dave. But you don’t mind sharing with Dave because you know their relationship isn’t the same as what you have with him. No relationship he’s ever had is the same, and you love that. You love his loyalty, not that you had any doubt he would be disloyal.

He’s giving you that look right now; with a small smile on his lips that grows the longer he looks at you. You know he can see the blush on your cheeks, and that just makes him grin wider as he leans down and kisses your nose. No matter how many times he looks at you like this, it will always make you blush. You don’t deserve him. He deserves to give that look to someone with a pulse. But he doesn’t. It’s always been you, and if you had a heart it would beat in over time and swell whenever you thought about him.

His kisses have descended down your face, and now he’s kissing around your jaw and the corners of your mouth. His hands rub your plush sides and you would giggle if you could, but he hears it anyway and smiles against your cheek. He’s always slow with you, taking his time, calculating his movements, and you appreciate the effort he puts in to allowing you to get pleasure from it too. He knows you would enjoy it no matter what, but still feels the need to show you how much he cares about you, making sure you feel it. And you do, every time you do, and it overwhelms you in such a beautiful way.

When his hands leave you, you feel empty. You don’t have to hear to know he’s working on the fastener of his belt; he can never hold himself back too much once he’s on top of you. You see a blur pass over you, and you know it’s his shirt being discarded, you feel the futon shift as he kicks off his pants and boxers. He takes your pants off too, but he keeps your shirt on because he likes looking down and seeing your name. You think that’s pretty cute, so you never complain. He knows you’re smiling at him, and he chuckles and kisses your head. He says he loves you and you don’t doubt it for a second.

He reaches under the frame of the futon and pulls out a condom, the non-lubed kind because he doesn’t like leaving a mess on you. He feels bad whenever he stains you no matter how many times you assure him that it’s okay. He rolls it over his cock, and then he’s back to you, adjusting your arms so they’re wrapped around his neck and he spreads your legs. You can feel his hot breath against your neck and he’s kissing it, murmuring praise against it as he moves his hands to where your hips should be and rubs his thumbs over your soft plush skin. You wish you had breath, because you know this is the point where it would hitch when you feel him slide against you and if you had a voice you would moan. He hears it though, he always hears your sounds and they just fuel him that much more, pace increasing as he begs you to keep making your sweet sounds, and he loves you so much you’re so perfect and you feel perfect under, his movements making you rock with him as he humps you relentlessly. 

Your eyes never leave his, even though you can feel your lids drooping, and even when you see the white of his eye just before his eyelids snap shut you don’t care because you would do that too if you could on your own and you didn’t love just watching him so much. He’s panting now, repeating ‘ _God, yes_ ’ over and over, saying ‘ _yes_ ,’ saying, ‘ _right there, Cal, fuck_ ’ and he hears you. You can’t say anything, but he hears you chanting with him, matching his volume, trying to keep up with his pace because now he’s going faster, and harder, and you love it because he doesn’t hold back once he gets going and nothing stops him from fucking you right into the futon and you let him, you want him to and he knows you want him to, and fuck you love him so much for knowing. Sweat is dripping onto your face, and he’s kissing you. Tongue in your mouth, rubbing against the metal mechanisms in your mouth that are the closest things to vocals cords that you could ever hope to have. You pour your every thought into kissing him back, making sure he feels every emotion you have to offer him, and you know he feels it when he moans into the kiss and pulls back and starts pecking against your lips.

His movements become more desperate as he gets close. His words have changed to ‘ _I love you_ ,’ and ‘ _you’re gorgeous _,’ and you return each in earnest and it just pushes him closer. You whisper you love him right into his ear and he moans your name as he finishes. You finish with him, just like every time, and he pulls the condom off and wipes himself clean with his shirt before pulling the blanket off the back of the futon and snuggling into you. He presses you into his chest and hides his face against your head and you would nuzzle into the crook of his neck if you could move, but he knows you want to so he shakes his head a bit to create the same effect. He murmurs his love for you as he falls asleep, and your mouth opens in an attempt to leave a kiss to his neck. Your mouth is still wet from his kisses earlier, so who knows maybe it feels like one. He would feel it regardless. He always does.__


End file.
